


Partner Sex

by trascendenza



Category: Invisible Man
Genre: M/M, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-14
Updated: 2007-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-03 16:04:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trascendenza/pseuds/trascendenza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>"Practically like having sex with yourself."</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Partner Sex

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [porn battle (third)](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/286546.html) ([mirror](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/286546.html?thread=12080210#t12080210)), prompt: _oops_.

"Partner sex?"

"Practically like having sex with yourself."

"Bobby Hobbes don't need to have sex with himself, my friend—"

"And by having sex with yourself, I meant a whole lot like having sex with me."

"—he can get plenty of action on his own, thank you very much."

"Then how about helping poor Fawkesy here get some action? Your partner needs you, man."

"Company pier, Fawkes. You know I don't touch that."

A pause, shifting sheets, sharp intake of breath. "Does this feel like a pier to you, Hobbes?"

"Well, now, there are certain elements of similarity, between, you know, a wooden pier and your—"

"Do you need a freaking step-by-step instruction manual? Last I checked, you had one, too." More shifting, a slinky hand and a bona fide Hobbesian growl, "hmm, yeah, you got a pretty nice one on you, matter of fact."

"_Christ_, Fawkes." A pause to collect the thoughts scattered in the unexpected assault. "This ain't such a good idea. What if—"

"What if the world ends tomorrow and I die without knowing what Bobby Hobbes's dick in my ass feels like?"

A blink. Skin catches on skin, faster, and mouths gravitate closer. Strong fingers twine through mussed hair. "Always such a pretty-talker, Fawkes."

"You know it. That's how I bring all my milkshakes to the yard. Or something."

"Milkshakes? Where?"

"Hey! Focus!" Legs straddling, fingers gripping. "We are in the middle of something, here."

Hands shift, nails dig into hips, and hard slides on soft. Eyes close. "Yeah, um. Still not so sure about the—the, uh—you know—with the—oh, _crap_—"

"Too late," Darien breathes into Bobby's ear, fitted and trembling, his voice drenched in heat and a note of what could be triumph.

"Oops." But Bobby's eyes open and he braces a hand on the small of Darien's back, another on the side of his face, and catches Darien's eyes, open and smiling.

Some mistakes are worth making.


End file.
